While she’d never meant for Lord Chapman to die, she refused to deny her relief that he was gone. An odd sense of peace had descended over the entire household in the days that had followed.
Reverend Henderson’s visit had upended that peace for Harriet and her mother. Yet Harriet had to think it had happened for a reason, a reminder from fate that she should know her place, just as her stepfather had always told her.
She’d allowed hope to lead her forward with Joseph. She wasn’t like her friends in the league. A bold move couldn’t change her future. How could she permit anything more to build between her and Joseph considering the black mark on her soul?
~*~
BY THE FOLLOWING DAY, her worry had eased slightly, the knot of panic that felt as if it were choking her lessening.
But it was far from gone.
She need only look at her mother to know she felt the same way even if she wouldn’t talk about it. Though Harriet longed to pour out her worries, she understood why her mother refused to discuss any of it.
She insisted it wasn’t Harriet’s fault, but Harriet wasn’t convinced. She had known they were at the top of the stairs, and shehadpushed him. She’d only wanted to escape him, not cause him harm.
Hadn’t she?
In all honesty, she wasn’t sure. That terrible night, her mother tucked her back into bed with strict instructions not to rise, that she would take care of everything.
After the doctor departed, her mother assured her that Lord Chapman’s death had been an accident, and the doctor agreed. She’d made Harriet promise to never speak of how he died.
But it was impossible not to worry. If any of the servants had seen what happened, Harriet could easily be blamed for his death. While none had come forward, perhaps that was only because no one had asked them for details.
The threat of being accused of murder was ever present, and Harriet couldn’t forget it for a moment. She had to take care. Reaching for a future other than the one she’d resigned herself to held too much risk. It would be wiser—and safer—to keep her past hidden and accept spinsterhood so she wouldn’t ever need to reveal the details of that night.
Thank goodness she had the literary league meeting that afternoon to look forward to. She welcomed the diversion of spending time with her friends rather than thinking of the past. Hopefully, no one would notice her worry.
Two potential members were joining them for the meeting at Phoebe’s house. One Harriet had already met when she and Phoebe had called on her to determine if she would be compatible with the current league members. Harriet immediately liked Lady Eliza Chadwick because of her passion for reading, along with her kindness and good humor.
Two of the others interested in becoming members weren’t able to attend the meeting and a third had changed her mind when she realized they truly did focus on reading books.
“Good afternoon, Harriet.” Phoebe looped her arm through Harriet’s and gestured toward the stairs after the butler had shown her in. “A few members have already arrived. Did you enjoy the dinner party the other evening?”
“It was very enjoyable. You are a wonderful hostess.”
Phoebe laughed. “Anthony and I were saying how it was a milestone for us as a newly married couple.”
“With more to follow, I’m sure.” Harriet adored how much they cared for one another even though she envied it.
“Do you have anything to tell me?” Phoebe asked with one brow lifted as they started up the stairs.
Harriet’s stomach tightened as worry about Reverend Henderson crossed her mind. “What do you mean?”
Phoebe frowned. “Only that I thought I sensed something between you and Viscount Garland during dinner. Was I wrong?”
“Oh. No. I mean yes.” She shook her head. “It’s too soon to talk about. Please don’t say anything, especially to Frances.”
“I won’t. Besides, she and her family have yet to return to London.”
Harriet wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. She wanted to know how Frances fared and how she felt about Joseph. Then again, it didn’t truly matter if Frances was still interested in him. He wasn’t for Harriet.
It had been easier for her to pretend as if Frances’ feelings had been holding her back rather than her own past.
“Is everything all right?” Phoebe asked, pausing midway up the stairs. “You seem out of sorts today.”
Harriet’s breath hitched. She was taken aback by the sudden urge to sob. Clearly, her emotions had yet to settle. She pushed back the feeling, remembering her vow to her mother not to tell anyone.
“It’s nothing.” She met Phoebe’s gaze, hoping she wouldn’t press her because she wasn’t sure if she could hold in the secret any longer.